


Defender

by ponderinfrustration



Series: Always Be There [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: M/M, Nightmare Violence, Nightmares, Pharoga - Freeform, Reference to Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponderinfrustration/pseuds/ponderinfrustration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An overwrought Erik is drugged to sleep, and the Daroga is there to take care of him when the nightmares come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defender

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from hopsjollyhigh who wanted an Erik-nightmare fic, Pharoga-style.

There is laudanum in the tea. He knows this, tastes the bitterness through the soothing lemon mask as it hits his tongue, though he does not object. It is not much of a surprise, and in truth he expected it sooner. (And this time, if they had asked, he would have agreed without question. He does not want to risk—Well. It is better, to acquiesce to the laudanum). He has been composing for two days, unable to quench the fire of thoughts in his brain and now his vision is blurred at the edges from squinting at squiggled notes in his own hand. He knows he needs to sleep. Of course he knows that. And if the laudanum is what it takes to put him under, to let him, and Rahim, have a bit of peace, then so be it.

Rahim smiles gently, jade eyes crinkling as he lowers the oil lamp. “Get some rest, Erik, all right?” He really is lovely, edges dimmed by the soft light, and a wave of nausea washes over Erik, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. He cannot be alone, cannot be left alone tonight.  The laudanum does not usually take like this, does not make his skin crawl as if it wishes to slither right off him. He cannot explain it but he _cannot be alone tonight_. He feels it deep in his aching heart and as Rahim withdraws his hand from the oil lamp Erik stretches for it, fingers fumbling to hold on. Rahim’s faint smile fades to a frown. “What is it, Erik?”

_I do not want to be alone. Don’t leave me alone. They are lurking in the shadows and if I am alone they’ll come and I’ll give in to them. You can’t leave me alone._ The words stick in his throat, lips unwilling to form them even as his eyes slip closed, the green-tinged darkness closing in, even as, distantly, he hears the soft words, “I’ll be right here, Erik. I promise.” They fade and are gone in an instant, leaving him…

_The raft is gentle, drifting slowly on the water. Rahim’s arm is wrapped around his waist, face nuzzled into his neck as he murmurs soft, incomprehensible words into his skin, each one punctuated by a faint kiss. Erik’s heart twists for to hold them, to cradle them close always, and if he could he would never let go of Rahim, would never leave this. They are safe here, safe away from Them and they cannot be found, cannot be hurt, can lie here simply like this as long as they desire and-_

_The block of travertine crushes his chest, lasso tight around his throat and he can’t breathe with it,_ can’t breathe _, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as they rip through his chest, pull his breastbone apart, squeeze his heart tight in their little hands, puncturing it with their nails so that he is bleeding from a thousand moon-curve gashes and where is Rahim? He must find Rahim, must keep him safe from them, those demons with their twisted faces and glittering eyes and his name is lost on the wind, blown away in Rahim’s voice as he slashes them with his sword as if they were so many vines in the undergrowth, each slash tearing his own stomach open until he falls, falls to his knees and there is Rahim, lying motionless in the dirt, jade eyes blank and blood-stained lips bruised blue, the same sword that lived loyally in his own hand a moment ago thrust deep into his chest—_

Erik’s eyes snap open, the room spinning around him and bile burning his throat. He heaves the contents of his stomach over the edge of his bed, and a hand smooths his hair as he gags, cold tremors rattling his very bones. “It’s all right, Erik. You’re all right.” The words are muffled through the pounding of his heart in his ears, the arms around his waist rocking him back and forth and back and forth, those same words murmured over and over, _all right, all right, all right_ until the voice becomes clear enough that he can recognise it as Rahim.

“Da…roga.” His throat scratches with the effort of speaking, the title he used to always use unwieldy on his tongue, tears stinging his eyes. “ _Rahim_.”

Rahim presses a soft kiss to his forehead, pulls him tighter. “I’m here, Erik. Don’t worry. You’re all right.” His words are an anchor, and though his heart still pounds, his lungs still burn, Erik finds himself nodding because yes, he is all right. Rahim is here.  Rahim is _safe_ , and if Rahim is safe, what could be wrong?

His eyes are heavy, the laudanum pulling at him still, but he can’t sleep, not now. Not after that. He takes a deep breath and holds it until his heart aches, slowly sighing it out as he feels the tension in his chest ebb away another bit. Carefully, he wraps his hand around Rahim’s at his waist and squeezes it tight.

“Stay with me, Rahim,” he whispers into the darkness, as if it is a prayer that can protect him, too. “Stay with me.”

And behind him, he can feel Rahim nod, his lips soft upon his hair. “Of course, Erik. Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the lovely dunkinphantom


End file.
